Hole
by Soncnica
Summary: Dean is stuck in a hole. And the hole ain't nice to him.
1. Chapter 1

**This is actually a part of erm a project me and Darksupernatural did in 2008/09, called Moments in Time… BUT I wanted the stories I wrote posted on my site too… just because. There are 9 stories I did, so I'll post 9 stories in the span of a few weeks, let's say... I'll maybe change some things, add things, add more chapters, remove things, you know! Expand a story or so… so that it won't be THE SAME story, but in a way it will be the same. So yeah some of you probably read this there, so if it looks familiar you can totally stop reading if you're not interested… umm yeah… LOL, but I just want the stories posted over here too, you understand.**

**I own nothing. All mistakes are mine.**

**Enjoy…**

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"Push!"

"You pull, I'll push!"

"I AM pulling; you're the one who's not pushing, dumbass!"

"Screw you!"

"Whatever, just push!"

"I would push if I could!" the strain in his voice was a sign that he was giving up.

"Dean, I swear if you don't push up, I'm gonna kill you, I swear to God!" _Dean push, please…_

"Nah, you wouldn't. Besides, God would just dump me back on Earth!" _'m trying. _

"Do I look like I care!" _try harder, please._

How the Hell did they end up like that?

SNSN

A drop of cold water on his forehead woke him up. The tickle it caused, running down the tip of his nose, down his lips was a very clear, very definite sign of trouble if he ever knew one.

"Wha…?" He jerked awake, arms flaying around to hit a wall, damp and hard.

"What the…?"

He tried to get up, but the wet dirt he was currently sitting…laying on was too slimy to find purchase on. So he glided down to the floor again and made his peace with just sitting there and opening his eyes.

"Oh, oh, okay…it's dark." With opened eyes all he saw was darkness…

A soft breeze caressed his cheeks and dried the water drops that were steadily dripping on the top of his head wetting his hair.

"Sam!"

_Is it wise to yell? _

"Sammy!"

_Hell, yeah. _

The soft wind brought with it a smell that was all too familiar to him… decaying and rotting…

"Awesome." He whispered to himself and the words echoed in the space.

"Sam, where are you?"

He tried once more to scramble to his feet, but the ground was just too muddy to actually get his feet firmly on the ground. He tried, oh he tried, but then his boot got stuck in the mud and yeah… no way is he trying that again. He just needed to face the fact that his behind was supposed to be firmly planted in the muddy ground. He could feel the wetness seeping through his jeans and he shivered. It was cold. So cold.

"Hate mud, hate this case, hate this cave wannabe, hate this frigging rain, hate this crap, hate Sam…"

"Sam! Get your ass here!" He yelled once again into the darkness and all he got back was the echo of his voice shouting Sam's name.

"Lovely."

He pulled up his knees and settled his forearms on them, making a fist with his hands.

"Lovely, lovely, just freakin' lovely…Sam!"

He needed to talk, he needed to keep calling Sam's name, and he needed to know that he was still alive in the darkness that was all around him.

He felt like he was blind. In the darkness… for all he knew he could be blind and he just didn't have any way to test that.

_Fuck…_

"Lighter." _Stupid._

He dug around in his pockets until he grabbed the small object. Trying to light it up, he failed on at least five tries, and on the sixth one he nailed it: "Oh Jesus, crap…!" he pushed his body to the wall, almost breaking his back on the uneven wall; tree roots digging themselves into his skin, he came _this_ close to piercing his spine on one of 'em.

There was a body laying on the opposite wall, half decayed and half fresh, by the look of it. Both legs broken, arms laying dead by its sides. Black, short wet hair, empty brown eyes, wet pale face, big nose, small chin, dark eyelashes that moved when water dripped on them, moved almost alive in a dead kind of way. Torn up clothes and hollow cheeks. Maggots in its mouth, dried blood on its cheeks…

"You scared the crap out of me, Jesus Christ, man."

He drank air, gulped it down like a starved man. He wiped a hand down his face, getting mud all over his cheeks, but he didn't care. His heart was racing, his lungs working overtime and the water was still drowning him with its drops that were soaking the place even more.

The lighter turned off when one drop hit it straight on and Dean didn't even flinch. He knew where he was and: "Sam, help!"

And once again all he got in return was the echo of his voice, thundering in the small space he was stuck in. His eyes adjusted to the darkness some, just enough to imagine the body of the man, smirking at him.

"What are you laughing at? Don't suppose you have anything to eat, huh?" When there was no answer: "Yeah, suppose not."

"Sam!"

He placed his hands on the floor, trying to raise himself from the cold floor once again, boots stuck in mud be damned and then there was the sharp sting of: "Son of a bitch." Sprained wrist.

_Damn it._

He pulled his right hand to his chest with lightning speed, trying to ease the pain, but it wasn't working. Cradling his hand in his lap: "Sooo," he clicked with his tongue, the sound loud in the small space, "… fun, right?" He panted out to the corpse, feeling silly in his attempt to lighten up the situation… being stuck with a corpse and a sprained wrist in a cave thingy with no knowledge of where Sam was… was yeah… not fun.

"Sammy!"

He flinched when the vibrations of his voice found his wrist, tripling the pain, making it sting.

He breathed, small puffs of air that stirred the calm surrounding… the darkness, the cold and the rain drops.

He leaned his head on the wall, looked up and was surprised when he could see the stars. Stars. Fuckin' stars laughing at him from the opening to the cave.

One; it flickered… "So, you've been here long?"

Two; it was partly covered by a tree root… "Nice hole you've got here."

Three; so bright… "So, ahem, Sam 's my brother, you know?"

Four; a drop of water fell into his eye… "He's cool, but don't tell him I said so."

Five… "'s freaking cold in here."

Six…"Sam!"

Seven; the North star… "He's gonna save me, so… don't think I'm gonna be here forever."

Eight… "The stars are bright tonight."

Nine, "Sammy!"

Ten… "Sprained wrist, man, it hurt's like a bitch… ah, er, you should know, right?"

Eleven…

"Dean!"

"You heard that? You hear that?" He asked the body of the man sprawled on the opposite wall.

"Dean!"

"Sam?"

"Sammy!"

He tried to get up again, forgetting the sprain wrist, forgetting that the floor was slippery, forgetting the numbness in his legs, arms… chest. And that was his fatal mistake. Falling back down on the floor, he landed on the sprained wrist, hitting it hard enough to hear bones cracking.

"Jesus!"

"Dean! Hey, you okay?"

Sam's head peeked into the hole, his body covering the night sky, his eyes unnaturally bright, the beam of his flashlight shining directly into Dean's chest.

"Dean, you okay?" breathlessly.

"Ahh, yeah, yeah, 'm fine, just get me out of here."

"Here…" A thick rope fell into the cave, hitting Dean's knees.

"Grab hold of it and push yourself up."

"Easy for you to say…'m injured here."

"What? What's wrong?"

"I, ah, I think I sprained my wrist."

"Okay, okay, ah… just tie the rope around your waist and I'll help you… crawl up."

"Sure, piece of cake."

Tying the rope behind his waist: "See, told you Sam'll come for me… and you didn't believe me… asshole."

"Ready?"

"Beam me up, Scotty."

"Dude, Star Trek?"

"Just pull, man!"

His wrist was throbbing to match his heart beat and he barely managed to stand up. Sam was holding all of his weight and he couldn't care less… the floor was slippery, the corpse was looking at him _funny_ in the dark, laughing at him… and he started to push himself up the uneven wall. Rocks dug themselves in his palms, the soft dirt chipped when he tried to touch it and his wrist was becoming numb with pain.

"Push!" the voice came from over his head, his brothers voice, urgently calling him to not give up.

"You pull, I'll push!"

"I AM pulling; you're the one who's not pushing dumbass!"

"Screw you!"

"Whatever, just push!"

"I would push if I could!" the strain in his voice was a sign that he was giving up.

"Dean, I swear if you don't push up, I'm gonna kill you!" _Dean push, please…_

"Nah, you wouldn't! Besides, God would just dump me back on Earth!" _'m trying. _

"Do I look like I care!" _try harder, please._

The rain on a clear night stopped at some point, but the slippery cave walls remained and Dean slipped on so many occasions, sliding down, losing footing, loosing strength… he lost count of it all.

"Dean!"

"What? 'm pushing up."

"Dean, look I know you're hurt, but I can't help you if you don't come up."

"Awww, Sammy you care."

To be honest… Dean could see Sam roll his eyes even in all the darkness.

"Dean, just push yourself up a little, just a little more and I'll be able to grab you, okay?"

"How much is a little?"

"Just… a little, okay?"

It was all slippery, the walls caving in, the pain in his wrist so strong, he nearly fell back down, when the rope accidentally rubbed his skin.

"A little more. Just try."

Sam could see Dean crawling up the cave, it wasn't deep, but with the wet ground and Dean's wrist, the trip up took ages.

"It's freaking slippery, man."

"Would you just stop bitching and climb!"

Dean rolled his eyes to that one.

When Dean felt Sam's strong hands on his shoulders he knew he was saved.

Safe. Out. On the ground. Away from the chatty bones down there.

Finally lying on the ground, hearing Dean catch his breath, feeling the cold seep into his back, seeing Dean's hand lying comfortably on his rising chest, their shoulders touching, Sam had to say it: "You look like shit, man."

"I feel like shit too. I've been talking to a freakin' corpse for hours, dude."

Sam laughed; white teeth and dimples laugh.

"'s not funny."

"Oh yeah it is."

"Shut up."

"No…" The laughter stretched for miles.

"Injured man here."

"Okay, okay, come on, let's go."

Stumbling to the car, Dean had to ask: "How long was I in it? Man it felt like ages."

"Ah, ahem, fifteen minutes."

Dean would've fallen if Sam's hands weren't supporting him: "Well I did find our case, didn't I?"

"Or did he find you?"

"Shut up."

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'**m gonna leave this story open, not say it's complete, because I'm doing a second chapter, a SHORT ONE, so… yeah… hope that's okay. But I don't know when it'll be ready to post. I'm almost done with it though. This is a little preview of the 2nd chapter. **

"So, we go back, torch his bones and he'll stop throwing people down the slope?"

"Basically, yeah."

"Oh, goody."

Dean really didn't wanna go back there. That whole place… gave him the shivers. And he ain't gonna go down that hole again that's for sure. His wrist was sprained, itches like sonofabitch, wrapped up in some weird, sweat smelling brace that Sam magically pulled out of the First Aid kit like a freakin' rabbit. And his back, his back ain't doing so good neither. He must've bruised it somehow while he was in there; makes him walk like he's ninty-nine and without his cane.

Sam will just have to go down there. He's handy with the lighter and salt. He'll do just fine.


	2. Chapter 2

**You ain't gonna like this; it's kinda different from Chapter 1, kinda more fast paced, ya know? But idk, just had to add this to chapter 1. So sorry for any grammar/spelling mistake you're gonna fine. Tell me about it and I'll fix it. Tnx!  
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**Enjoy...**

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"So, we go back, torch his bones and he'll stop throwing people down the slope?"

"Basically, yeah."

"Oh, goody."

Dean really didn't wanna go back there. That whole place… gave him the shivers. And he ain't gonna go down that hole again that's for sure. His wrist was sprained, itches like sonofabitch, wrapped up in some weird, sweaty brace that Sam magically pulled out of the First Aid kit like a freakin' rabbit. And his back, his back ain't doing so good neither. He must've bruised it somehow while he was in there; makes him walk like he's ninety-nine and without his cane or somethin'.

Sam will just have to go down there. He's handy with the lighter and salt. He'll do just fine.

-:-

Sam didn't do fine. Didn't do great neither. And awesome… yeah, he didn't do awesome either.

He did spectacularly bad.

As in fabulously bad.

The ghost pushed him down the slope. Legs first, the he did some weird spin mid air with arms flailing all over the place, rotating so that then his arms were going first, probably losing all the skin on his back.

That's gonna hurt in the mornin', Dean thought, as he watched Sam slide down hill.

"Saaaaam!"

He screamed, standing on the edge of the hill, his shotgun held strongly in his hands.

"Saaaam!"

His voice boomed through the forest.

He saw Sam stop at the foot of the incline.

"Sam, you 'kay?"

No response.

Sam was just laying there; his body sprawled on the ground like he was in bed, comfortably watching TV.

But Dean knew that his brother was fine, by the little 'fuck you' Sam pointed his way.

"Damn it…"

Well, Dean guessed, it's down the hole for him.

With Sam out of commission, the only way to help his brother is to salt 'n' burn those bones. The bones that were in the hole. The very muddy, dark, slimy, moldy hole.

"Damn it…"

He tied the rope; one end to a tree trunk, it looked strong enough to hold his weight, the other end around his waist.

His wrist was throbbing.

"Damn it…"

He needed to act fast. The ghost of the hiker was pissed off; who could blame him, really! Being murdered by your friends while on a pretense 'let's get to know each other, dude' hike… Dean would be pissed off too. Friends, his ass.

No wonder the hiker's ghost then kept on pushing people down the slope. Revenge feels good, even if it is done to innocent people, Dean guessed that was the way the hiker's mind worked now.

Well, whatever it was, he was gonna put an end to it.

Right now.

Just as soon as he'll get down that hole.

Just… any second now.

Yes sir. Any minute now.

Down that hole.

Yup.

"Damn it…"

He put his leg down the side of the hole and disappeared into it.

-:-

"Okay now, Chatty bones, you no hurty me and I'll do this nice and quick, okay?"

His left boot was stuck in the mud and Chatty bones was still laughing at him. Smirking, just like he did before.

Dean rolled his eyes and sprinkled salt all over Chatty bones.

The air became colder then. Much colder then before. He could see puffs of air coming out of his mouth.

"Damn it…"

He fumbled for his lighter, holding the flashlight in his mouth, holding the shotgun with his other hand, trying to unstuck his left leg from the mud and trying not to panic in the small space he was in with a sprained wrist and a bruised back.

This hole was Hell. Pure Hell. He could feel sweat starting to run down his back; made him shiver when cold air sneaked beneath his clothes to caress his skin.

He wasn't doing so well. But then again, what's new?

He found the lighter just in time when the bloody head of the hiker came to view.

Dean shot. No hesitation, no thinking, just pull the trigger.

The noise… almost pierced his eardrums. He yelled at the pain in his ears, stupid, shooting in such a small space.

_Fuck_.

He closed his eyes; needed to come back to the land of the hearing, 'coz coming back to the land of the not-hurting will probably take some more time.

He tried the lighter, praying to all that is Holy that it'll start at the first try.

It did.

Hallelujah.

The bones burned. It smelled, coz they weren't just bones, they were bones with still some flesh on 'em.

The ghost of the hiker thought, he went up in weird sparkling light. Threw red-orange-yellow sparks all around the small hole. Was kinda beautiful in a sick kinda way.

A hole in the ground… in the end, Chatty bones was dumped in a hole in the ground. So much for friendship.

Dean was thrown in a hole in the ground too. Well, he was more dragged down there, into that ice cold inferno. Hell. Hell was cold, not hot. But he got out. Chatty bones stayed in his Hell.

In a way… Dean felt sorry for the guy, a guy, he didn't remember the name of at the moment, but… man, to get murdered on a hike! By your friends, well, your supposed friends…seriously… Jesus.

People. People scare him sometimes.

He looked up. The stars were still up there. But he didn't have the time to count them, not when his little brother was laying at the bottom of the slope, in God knows what condition.

Dean just hoped Sam didn't go unconscious. Because that would really suck, what with his wrist and back being screwed up and all.

He unstuck his feet from the mud and started to climb back up. The walls were cold and damp, but the tree roots provided great support. Just as long as you didn't impale yourself on any of them, you were golden.

He breathed in and out, long pulls of air, when he stepped back onto solid ground, into open space.

He untied himself and carefully walked down the slope, grabbing a bush here, a tree branch there, some fern here and some grass there. All in the name of support and the fact that if he slipped… well, yeah… who knows what he would break next.

"Sam?"

Sam groaned and pushed himself up, clearly being awake for some time, probably just chilling and hoping that the world would stop spinning already.

"m fine."

"You sure? You look a bit… pale there."

Dean didn't jump away fast enough and his muddy boots were hit with Sam's breakfast, lunch and dinner and coffee on the side.

"Ugh, man."

"Soooooorry."

"Yeah, 's fine." But it really wasn't because the stench, oh dear Lord, the stench.

"Can you get up? Come on, get up."

He hauled his brother up on his feet, his uninjured hand strong around Sam's bicep, his back protesting at the move.

"Left everything up there, can you walk up?"  
Sam paled at that, but really, there was no other choice: "Yeah, okay, yeah…"

Sam looked like some walking up steep terrain and some mountain fresh air helped him to get his bearings back, because when they got on top, he looked fine. A bit dirty and green around the edges, but fine.

"You got him?"

"Got him."

"Good."

"Yup," he picked up the shotgun, left the rope for Sam to fold, "it's taken care of."

"You went down there?"

Dean looked at Sam, who was leaning over the hole's edge.

"Yup."

"Weren't scared?"

Sam teased.

"Pft, no. What the hell?"

Hell if he's gonna let his little brother tease him about being scared of a little hole.

Even if the little hole was almost like Hell.

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**The End.**


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